What are the Four Joys and Three Yuans of the Zuowandao?

The Zuowandao is organized like a mahjong set. The Four Joys are 16 Wind tiles (the highest-ranking members), the Three Yuans are the 12 Dragon tiles (the second tier), and the 108 common tiles are ordinary members. Their leader is called "Dice."

Why is it terrifying that the Supervisory Censor is a mortal?

In a world of supernatural powers, a man with no cultivation who can still defeat liars and command exorcists must be terrifyingly intelligent. His ability to see through lies without magic makes him the most unpredictable person in the room.

What does the root-carved monk symbolize?

The monk is a visual metaphor for the Dao-Twisted World itself: a perfectly ordered, happy surface (the carved upper half) stitched violently onto a chaotic, inhumane foundation (the twisted roots of the lower half).

The Marrow of the Storm

654 words

After the man in the screen finished speaking, there was no more sound from behind it. Li Huowang, unsatisfied, felt a storm gathering around him, yet he himself didn’t know what was truly inside those clouds. He lifted his foot and walked toward the screen to take a look, only to find that behind it there wasn’t actually another person. On the low table sat a root-carved statue of a fat monk, the size of a human head. The upper half of the monk was carved quite cheerfully, his big belly sticking out in a comical expression of perpetual laughter. The lower half, however, had not been carved at all, leaving the twisted, coarse, and gnarled black roots exposed in their natural, chaotic state. The order of the upper body and the disorder of the lower body were stitched together in a way that felt intensely dissonant.

“Earjiu! Where are you?” He heard Nan Gong’s voice shouting outside. Li Huowang shot one more look at the root-carved monk, then turned around and walked back out from behind the screen. “Brother Nan, I’m here!”

“Hurry up and follow me. The Supervisory Censor wants to see you!” Hearing a note of urgency in Nan Gong’s voice, Li Huowang’s spirits lifted. He nodded quickly and followed.

Li Huowang didn’t fully understand the bureaucratic structure of the Supervisory Heavenly Office, but if this person could handle matters involving the entire Zuowandao, then this so-called “Supervisory Censor” was certainly no ordinary figure. “Here, put this on. You can’t go before the Censor looking like that. It’s indecent.” Nan Gong handed a gray robe to Li Huowang, whose clothes had been burned clean off.

Li Huowang took the robe and wrapped it tightly around himself, covering all the scars on his body. “When you face the Censor, just say what you have to say. Don’t make anything up. He’ll be able to tell.”

Those words sent a jolt of alarm through Li Huowang. Could this person really see straight into people’s hearts?! If so, when he stood before him and let his mind wander, wouldn’t the man see that he was a Heart-Element? “May I ask, Brother Nan… what sect or school did the Censor train in?”

“The Censor is different from you and me. He is a Confucian scholar. Confucians revere spirits and gods but keep their distance from them. He doesn’t practice any supernatural techniques or abilities.”

“He’s just an ordinary mortal?!” Li Huowang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The high-ranking official who oversaw the entire Supervisory Heavenly Office, all across Great Liang, was merely a common man?

“You think you can solve everything with nothing but those mystical arts? You’re thinking too small, too small. Some people are extraordinary from birth. Even without such methods, they can still solve problems simply by reading the hearts of others. The Censor is the man who once fooled the Zuowandao.”

Li Huowang had come into contact with the Zuowandao many times. He knew better than anyone what it meant to fool a pack of liars like them—it required a level of intelligence that bordered on something inhuman. Knowing that he was about to face a man like that, Li Huowang began to feel nervous. His mind churned as he tried to figure out how to conduct the conversation.

He followed Nan Gong through the wooden underground corridors for a while until they came to a large gate with stone drums flanking either side. Two officers in full armor stood guard there in silence, one on the left and one on the right, standing like door gods. The thick, tangible aura of slaughter emanating from them gave away their identity. Li Huowang followed Nan Gong through several more doorways inside the stern, heavily guarded interior, finally stopping at the entrance to a study.

“Reporting to the Censor. Earjiu has been brought here.” Nan Gong bowed respectfully toward the wooden door.

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Reading Guide Decoding

Paying the Pipers

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

The Mahjong Hierarchy of the Zuowandao — This is a brilliant piece of cultural coding. The author uses the structure of a literal mahjong set to describe the sect’s hierarchy. There are 108 “numbered” tiles (the common soldiers), 16 Wind tiles (East, South, West, North known as the “Four Joys”), and 12 Dragon tiles (Red, Green, White known as the “Three Yuans”). The leader is the “Dice” (骰子) because you need two dice to play the game. This isn’t just flavor text; it implies the sect has a rigid, almost bureaucratic structure of deception. For Western readers, think of it like a crime syndicate organized by a deck of cards, where “Dice” is the player who controls the whole table.

The Mortal Confucian vs. The Supernatural — The idea that a mortal can command a bureau full of exorcists is a fascinating subversion of the usual xianxia power fantasy. Confucian philosophy traditionally values “respecting ghosts and spirits but keeping them at a distance” (敬鬼神而远之). A scholar’s power is derived from moral rectitude, social order, and, most importantly, the ability to deduce truth through observation and logic. In a world full of liars (like the Zuowandao), being unreadable by supernatural means makes this Censor the most dangerous predator in the room. It’s a classic “the pen is mightier than the sword” logic, but here the pen is used to dissect minds.

Four Joys (四喜)

The highest-ranked inner circle of the Zuowandao, consisting of the four Wind tiles; their appearance signals an escalation in the enemy’s threat level.

Three Yuans (三元)

The second tier of high-ranking Zuowandao members, corresponding to the three Dragon tiles (Red, Green, White) in a mahjong set.

Chapter Overview

Alright, fellow Daoists, buckle up. We're finally cashing in those membership points. After all the pain, the skin grafts, and the lies, Li Huowang has dragged himself back to the Heavenly Office to pull the biggest lever he has: telling them the ENTIRE Zuowandao crew has shown up in the capital. This isn't a puny squad of tricksters; we're talking the full mahjong set. One hundred and thirty-six cards, including the terrifying Four Joys and Three Yuans. Our boy is about to start a war between two colossal powers, and he’s hoping to crawl out of the wreckage with a prize. But the real highlight? The man he has to convince isn’t some cultivator with a glowing aura—he’s a mortal Confucian scholar who reads people like a book.

Key Plot Points

Li Huowang returns to the Supervisory Heavenly Office and delivers his bombshell: the entire Zuowandao sect, led by their leader “Dice,” is gathering in the capital.
He uses the logic of the mahjong set to explain their structure: 108 “common cards,” 16 “wind” tiles (the Four Joys), and 12 “dragon” tiles (the Three Yuans), plus their leader who uses the dice to play them all.
Nan Gong is initially skeptical of the claim’s gravity, but the threat of national-level chaos forces him to escalate the report to the Supervisory Censor.
While waiting, Li Huowang hears a cryptic voice from behind a screen warning that “everyone is going to flee to Shu,” hinting that the Office’s old hands already sense the coming storm.
Li Huowang investigates the source of the voice but finds only a grotesque root-carving of a laughing monk—a visual metaphor for forced cheer over chaotic foundations.
He is summoned to meet the Censor, and Nan Gong reveals the shocking truth: the man in charge is not a sorcerer, but a mortal Confucian who relies only on his understanding of human nature. This terrifies Li Huowang more than any monster would.

Reading Guide

This chapter is a masterclass in setup. It’s quiet, mostly dialogue and internal monologue, but the tension is immense. Pay close attention to Li Huowang’s new mindset. After surviving the Sieve and the doppelgänger, he isn't just reacting anymore; he’s strategizing. The horror has shifted from "I might die" to "I might be the chess player." Also, don’t sleep on that root-carved monk. The visual of a perfectly happy, orderly top half stitched onto a chaotic, mangled bottom half is a perfect symbol for the Dao-Twisted World itself—a sick joke masquerading as a joke. Finally, get ready to meet the Censor. In a novel filled with body horror and cosmic dread, the most unsettling figure might just be a normal man with abnormally sharp eyes.

Quick Q&A

Lore recap (TL;DR) drawn from this chapter's Cultural / Xianxia Notes — same text as the FAQ structured data on this page.

What are the Four Joys and Three Yuans of the Zuowandao?: The Zuowandao is organized like a mahjong set. The Four Joys are 16 Wind tiles (the highest-ranking members), the Three Yuans are the 12 Dragon tiles (the second tier), and the 108 common tiles are ordinary members. Their leader is called "Dice."
Why is it terrifying that the Supervisory Censor is a mortal?: In a world of supernatural powers, a man with no cultivation who can still defeat liars and command exorcists must be terrifyingly intelligent. His ability to see through lies without magic makes him the most unpredictable person in the room.
What does the root-carved monk symbolize?: The monk is a visual metaphor for the Dao-Twisted World itself: a perfectly ordered, happy surface (the carved upper half) stitched violently onto a chaotic, inhumane foundation (the twisted roots of the lower half).